pout in dust behind the wallflies,
the flares and glares:
truly would there be something if there was none?
and we could cruise in our declining youth,
going to the local bayou, we choose what we do:
for a honeymoon
on our honeymoon
clad in silk dyed with dark blue
loving forever and a moon
there are sparkles in his eyes,
and a smile that begins to surround me
there are my hands to caress his face,
and my arms to wrap around his neck
it's no wonder every time I see you
I fall over again and we dive into our bed